The Marquette police were NOT helpful at all, even when I flashed my fake badge. We skedaddled out of there fast, and went over to my favorite bookstore run by Maggie Smith. She had plenty of Deb Baker's Yooper mysteries, which I got to sign since I'm the main character. She also had information on the dog and boot.
"I'm the one who nabbed the dog," she said. "He was hanging around outside the door, gnawing on the boot.
"Hot dog!" Kitty said, realizing we'd scored.
"What kind of boot," I wanted to know, although here in the Michigan Upper Peninsula there's only one kind.
"A black Sorrel," Maggie said, confirming my suspicion. "It's in the back. Want me to get it?"
That perked us up.
The boot was a plain old standard boot with gnaw marks on it.
Plain, except for the dark stain on the toe.
"Blood?" Kitty asked.
"Could be," I said. "That's why the dog was chewing on it."
"Extra flavor," Kitty agreed. "The cops didn't want the boot?"
Maggie shook her head. "All they cared about was the dog. It belongs to Marvin Mattila and we all know he breeds wolf into his dogs."
"Was it vicious?" I asked.
"Naw, it was like a little lamb. I gave him a chunk of my venison jerky and he gave me the boot. It wasn't any big deal."
Kitty and I gave each other a knowing eye. A wolf dog and blood on a boot could add up to a really big deal.
"Where does Marvin Mattila live?" I asked Maggie.
And we were on the road, again.